


Bicep goals

by necromanticCavalier



Category: Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Awful Teens, F/F, F/M, The Ninth House - Freeform, little nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necromanticCavalier/pseuds/necromanticCavalier
Summary: The awful Fourth Teens ponder about Gideon's biceps.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 13
Kudos: 152





	Bicep goals

**Author's Note:**

> Awful Teens, Best Teens!

"I'm going to ask her! If they come to Magnus and Abigail's party." Jeannemary the Fourth said determinedly, looking back at necromancer who trailed just behind her in the halls of Canaan House.

  
"You can't just ask how big her biceps are!" squealed Isaac, throwing his arms sideways as he did. "It's a weird question! Besides, I don't think they're going to come. Her Necromancer, Harrowharth? Harrowhalf? Harrow…something - I don't think she likes Magnus. Or us. Or anyone."

  
"Well, if she comes, I'd like to ask her. " Replied the young cavalier, rapier swinging from her sword belt as they fell back into step with each other. Head held high in confidence with the decision she'd been wrestling with, finally made. "And about how I can get biceps like that too! I bet she could swing big long swords with it, or hurl grenades twice as far as anyone!"

  
Slowly warming up to the idea, Isaac nodded. "That could make for some really cool thanergetic possibilities. We can finally do the thing where you throw the bone bomb and I can explode it without holding back. It'll be far enough we wont get caught in the explosion or damage my wards."

  
They rounded a corner in the narrow hallway, skittering about between the old aging columns. Particles of dust hung in the air with every other step, floating and sparkling from the few rays of light that petered in. Jeannemary pivoted after giving Isaac a look of conspiratorial agreement and found herself colliding face first into the purple, gold vested, and strongly cologned torso of the Third Cavalier.

  
"Watch where you're going, you little cretinous gremlin!" sneered the ever disdained, inconvenienced and over-pomaded douchebag, Naberius the Third.

  
Still high from the confidence of fantasizing herself becoming as skilled as the stoically quiet warrior that was the Ninth cavalier- Jeannemary puffed out her chest, held her head high with the glare she usually saved for her second youngest sister and shot back, "YOU watch where you're going, y-you leafy headed roi des cons!"

  
"I could-" started the prince of Ida, face turning red with indignation. Isaac now glaring at him, looking ready to blow something of a gasket up, flanking his cavalier protectively.

  
"Babs! Don't be puerile." Coronabeth's deep alto voice cut him off and he blew air sharply through his nose as he glared downward at the awful teens.

  
With a final glare, Isaac pulls out an neatly folded piece of flimsy and hands it to the tall glowing ray of sunshine that is Coronabeth Tridentarius. His best friend now with her arms crossed in front of her chest, glaring up at Naberius the Third with an unfamiliar smirk that he figures she may have tried to copy from Gideon the Ninth's painted face. Although, she looked more like she had something stuck in her eye right then. But, right now wasn't a good time to tell her that.

  
"Magnus and Abigail are throwing a dinner party." he mumbled towards the Princesses of Ida. Face softening as directed his gaze away from Naberius. The pallid twin looking ever bored but slightly amused at the standoff between their cavalier and the young Chatur. She was such a small thing, but looked like she was ready to head bash Naberius right in his scrunched up face. "You're all invited and they're making dinner."

  
Corona smiled slightly as she took the neatly written note from the bright haired necromancer and read it. "Please extend our thanks to Lady Abigail and Sir Magnus, we'd be happy to attend this evening."

  
Naberius scoffed at that. Isaac nodded and gently guided his glaring cavalier who was still staring Naberius down around the Tridentarii and down the hallway. They quickly scattered off, feet pitter-pattering and gaining distance away from the Third House scions. When they felt a comfortable enough distance away, Isaac started giggling and so did Jeannemary.  
"I can't believe you called him a-a leafy headed idiot!" Isaac whispered and wheezed as he giggled at his friend.

  
"Well, his hair does look like a sad leaf. And he's definitely an idiot!" Laughed Jeannemary. "Maybe I should ask Gideon to show me her kicking technique, I wanted to kick him in the shins, but maybe I'm too old to do that now. I should learn that knee kick she does!"

  
Isaac, in a rare occasion of shit-giving, squinted at his oldest friend and poked her in the arm. "Maybe you have a crush on Gideon the Ninth, no? Not just admiring those biceps and fighting technique."

  
"Shut up, Isaaaaac!" she crooned in the same tone reserved mostly for Magnus the Fifth. "And no. I just want to learn from her and maybe fight like her. Someone has to protect your squishy when we get deployed. Or when you're a Lyctor, but still squishy."

  
He smiled back, but there was a hint of nervousness and thoughtfulness behind his eyes.

  
"And anyway, I think she's bonded to Harrowhorn? Something. The Ninth Necro. Did you hear them arguing through the door before we slipped them the invitation? My Mama and Papa used to argue with each other like that, but they still loved each other." A hint of sadness accompanied her voice as she recounted the bittersweet memory. "It's weird, but I think they liked spitting words at each other."

  
Catching the pang in her tone, he quickly changed the subject not only to avoid reopening the wounds that fettered his friend deep in her chest, but for his own memory of his parents untimely deaths. Such was life in the fourth and he'd learned to steel and misdirect his pain long ago. They both have.

  
"I bet she's alright." He recounted. "I mean, she's really scary. Like her eyes could scare anyone enough to make their skeleton want to ditch their body, but maybe it's just her face paint that makes her intimidating?"

  
"She's probably a good necromancer at least. Maybe if the Ninth cavalier can show me some new fighting moves, you could ask her necromancer to show you some of hers?"

  
"Probably. Are we supposed to help each other become Lyctors? Aside from Abigail and Magnus?"

  
"I don't know yet. After the dinner tonight, we should ask Abigail for your key ring back to go down that hatch everyone keeps talking about. If we're old enough to be deployed, and old enough to be called to this, then we're old enough to go check out some creepy house on our own." Isaac concluded. His own face mirroring determination now. Jeannemary's small act of bravery and boundless confident energy infectious to him.

  
"Right. But first, dinner." Jeannemary replied as they continued back down the halls and the staircases of the mold and decaying house, back to their own quarters which flanked the fifth house's own.

  
"And Magnus' Dessert."

  
"And Dessert." A pause. "And asking about Gideon the Ninth's Biceps."

  
Her dear friend punched her shoulder lightly with a light laugh, mirth filling their conversation while they continued down the hall back to their own quarters. Jests and plans about fantasies of growing up, growing taller, and more muscular than ever before.


End file.
